Forbidden Fruits
by catsinthevoid
Summary: Aziraphale certainly hadn't meant to enter a strip club and he definitely didn't mean to fall in love.
1. A Chance Encounter

The overhead music boomed and thumped as Aziraphale made his way through the crowd. The sign out front had said "Gentlemen's Club" and he had assumed, well. Not this, certainly. It was an honest mistake, though he felt a bit foolish having made it. He really should leave. He ought to leave, and yet...there was something drawing him in. Some imaginary force pulling him towards the center stage. He made himself stop. He really shouldn't be here. Aziraphale turned around and began to walk away when the music faded out and a voice spoke.

"Next up on the stage is a favorite here at The Garden of Eden Gentlemen's Club. I'm sure you've all heard of him! Give a round of applause for Serpent!" The patrons clapped and shouted as the music returned. Aziraphale continued on to the exit, but that feeling was back. It was as if an unseen string was pulling him towards the stage. He turned back again and, on the stage, he saw the most beautiful man he'd ever laid his eyes on.

_You're so hypnotizing. Could you be the devil, could you be an angel. Your touch magnetizing. Feels like I am floating. Leaves my body glowing._

Time seemed to stop and he didn't even realize he had made his way all the way to the front of the stage until the man, this _Serpent_, caught his eye and winked over his sunglasses. Aziraphale blushed. He could see how the man had gotten that name. He hadn't walked onto the stage; he sauntered, he strutted, he swaggered, he absolutely slithered to the pole. Serpent was tall and long-limbed; he wore a black jacket, which had already been shucked off to reveal a sheer black shirt that left little to the imagination. He wasn't muscular, per se, but there was definitely definition and his toned arms and chest were easily visible through the black mesh top. The man had wound himself around the pole as naturally as if he really was a snake and the way his tongue came out to lick the pole- _dear lord_, Aziraphale thought. He was beginning to get a little hot under the collar watching the man dance. It was, well, erotic, he supposed. That's what they called it after all, erotic dancing. The man before him was positively writhing to the music as he undid his belt, using his left hand to pull it out of the loops in one fluid motion as his right hand ran sensually through his dark red locks.

_Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me. Infect me with your lovin. Fill me with your poison. Take me, ta-ta-take me. Wanna be a victim. Ready for abduction._

Aziraphale felt mesmerized watching him perform, but he managed to shake himself out of it as the Serpent ripped off his pants. _I really shouldn't be here_, Aziraphale thought again and, with great difficulty, he managed to tear himself away. He was reluctant to leave, but it wouldn't be proper for him to stay. He weaved through the crowd and left, his heart still racing even as he returned to his apartment.


	2. First Meeting

An entire week had passed by since the night at the gentlemen's club and Aziraphale still couldn't get the man he had seen out of his mind. He'd never felt this way before. He supposed he could wait it out- ignore these feelings and hope they'd fade with time- or he could act on them. The thought of acting on his feelings was daunting, but if he was being honest with himself he didn't think he could live with doing nothing. These emotions were formidable and he was sure time would do nothing to change them, so acting was really his only option.

Aziraphale gripped his hair in frustration. He knew what he had to do, but he had no idea _how_. Could he just approach the man? What would he say; what would he wear? He didn't even know the man's name! Aziraphale was a bundle of nerves about to explode. He stalked into his kitchen and grabbed a bottle of moscato, pouring himself a glass. He drank it quickly and then poured himself another. He didn't want to get drunk exactly, a bit tipsy perhaps, but he didn't think he could face the man he'd been thinking about all week without a little liquid courage first. And so, a fair amount of alcohol later, Aziraphale was making his way down to the club.

He had the taxi driver stop a few blocks back, embarrassed of his destination. He could see the neon sign blinking as he approached: _The Garden of Eden Gentlemen's Club_. He took a deep breath and entered. It was aptly named, he thought. A paradise of attractive, half-clothed men and women, beautiful to look at, but impossible to touch. Aziraphale paid no attention to the bodies around him; he was really only interested in one. Like Adam and Eve desired the proverbial apple he yearned for the man he had seen on stage. He had only seen the man once and yet he positively ached for him. He longed to know his name, dreamed of the way his hips moved as if they had a mind of their own, craved the taste of the man's flesh against his tongue. This man was his apple and he wanted to take a bite. He knew it was wrong, to lust for someone he'd never even met, and yet he never wanted anything more. The alcohol in his system was letting his mind go wild and he tried to shake himself out of it as he scanned the club. As luck would have it, Aziraphale spotted Serpent across the room; he was just getting on to the stage from the looks of it. All those wandering thoughts he had been having stopped as his mind went blank.

"I can't do this," Aziraphale whispered under his breath. To think things was one thing, but to actually approach the man was another completely. He shuddered as a spike of anxiety went down his spine. He turned around and went straight for the bar to order something strong.

One drink and a few shots later Aziraphale was feeling a bit dizzy and had mostly forgotten why he was so nervous. He made his way through the throngs of people, past a drunken bachelorette and her even drunker friends, to the side stage where Serpent was still dancing. He was stripped down to his ever-present sunglasses, a necklace, and a tantalizing, skin tight pair of mini black booty shorts. He was standing on a chair in front of the stage, his arms above his head and hands gripping the pole behind him as his hips gyrated. Serpent swayed to the music and Aziraphale swayed from the alcohol until he reached the stage, which he used to steady himself. He vaguely remembered that money was involved and clumsily grabbed some bills from his wallet, not even thinking to see what they were. All his worries had vanished and he happily held out one of the bills with the hand that wasn't gripping the stage for support. The song was beginning to end and Aziraphale smiled giddily as the next song, one he didn't recognize, began to play.

The man jumped off the chair and, despite his blurred vision, Aziraphale could easily see his sweat-slicked skin under the bright stage light. The man got on his knees and began to collect the money that was being offered to him. He bit a five pound note out of a girl's hand and Aziraphale felt a small wave of jealousy wash over him. When he got around to Aziraphale he grabbed the note and paused. Aziraphale wasn't sure how long the man looked at him; it could've been hours, but was most likely seconds, before the man offered him his hand and pulled him up on stage.

If he hadn't been quite so drunk Aziraphale would have been shocked, but as it was he just smiled and blundered on to the stage. He managed to make it up without falling and felt incredibly pleased with himself as the other man guided him to sit in the chair. This close Aziraphale was able to finally get a good look at the man who had been running through his mind all week. He was tall, around 186 centimeters from the looks of it. He had short, tousled red hair that looked even more disheveled as the man ran his hand through it. The necklace that hung around his smooth chest was a simple, long, thin black chain. He had a small trail of hair just barely visible above his black mini shorts, which were tight spandex. Aziraphale felt himself slipping another note into the man's shorts before he even realized what he was doing, the upbeat music and alcohol running through his veins letting him lose his inhibitions.

_Touch me in the dark. Put your hands all over my body parts. Throw me on the bed. Squeeze, tease me, please me, that's what I said!_

He was close enough to smell Serpent's cologne as the man pulled his hands above his head and began to grind down on him teasingly. A small moan escaped Aziraphale's lips and he could swear he saw the other man smirk. He let go of Aziraphale's hands and placed one end of his necklace over Aziraphale's head. He was so close that Aziraphale thought he was going to kiss him; Aziraphale wondered briefly if Serpent would whisper into his ear, entice him to take the plunge and bite in like the serpent in the story of Eden had. He was sure he wouldn't need much tempting at all, but the other man simply leaned down and out of the necklace so that it was only worn by Aziraphale. Then he got up and pulled Aziraphale with him, turning around so that his ass was pressed flat against the shorter man's front. Serpent bent down, still grinding against him as he went, and then snapped up, ripping his shorts off in one go. Aziraphale looked down at the man's back and could see the sweat glistening down towards the bright red thong he now had on. It was rather small and left very little to the imagination. His supple thighs and tender cheeks were now on display for everyone to see. The crowd below cheered and threw their money to the stage, but Aziraphale tuned them out. He allowed himself an indulgent glance at the skin that was now exposed when the man suddenly turned around and he could see that the front left very little to the imagination as well. His face flushed red and his last thought was that the taller man was rather well-endowed before everything went black.

* * *

"Jesus, Crowley, what happened to him?" someone asked, not sounding the least perturbed.

"He fell off the stage; I don't know," Crowley answered. "He seemed fine before, a bit tipsy maybe, but I didn't think he'd just _pass out_."

"Why'd you pull him on the stage if he was tipsy? You know better than that."

"He gave me a _fifty_ pound note and he was looking at me like, well, he's pretty cute, y'know?" Crowley hesitated and then, "Do you think he's going to be alright?"

"How would I know? He's your problem now, Crowley, just make sure he doesn't want to sue," the person replied and left

"Yeah, yeah, of course B," Crowley said, still staring at the man before him. He placed his fingers gently on the welt on the side of his head and the man groaned. "Ooh, that's quite the bump, isn't it?" He looked around the back room for a rag; deciding paper towels would have to do, he put some under cold water in the sink and brought it back towards the unconscious gentleman laying on the bench. He had brought him to the back room to get away from the strobing lights and blaring music. He wasn't entirely sure how to deal with this. He'd been stripping for almost a year and he had never had someone faint on him. He placed the cold towels on the man's head and watched as he began to stir.

Aziraphale had heard parts of the conversation even though his head wanted nothing more than to fall into a long, deep sleep. He realized that the man he'd been obsessing over was named Crowley, but otherwise he was too tired to pay much attention or even try to tell them both that he was jolly good, just a bit tired and maybe a little nippish. Now that he was thinking about it he could really go for some crepes, but a nap first. Some sleep and then some crepes; it sounded perfect. Suddenly he felt something cold and wet press against his forehead and he shuddered before bolting upright.

He opened his eyes and then closed them just as quickly, the fluorescent lighting of the employee's back room burning his eyes and causing his head to ache. He felt a warm hand press against his back and a soft voice asked if he was okay. He took a deep breath and took a chance at opening his eyes again. It hurt less the second time and he was able to look towards the voice. He gasped. It was the man, Crowley, his mind helpfully supplied. He was completely dressed now in black skinny jeans, a dark grey v-neck, and an open black jacket. He lowered his sunglasses minutely to look Aziraphale over. Aziraphale noted that he had brilliant golden eyes before he pulled his glasses back up.

"H-how long have I been out?" Aziraphale asked.

"About three hours. I've been checking in on you, but you went down like a lead balloon. We closed half an hour ago; I wasn't really sure what to do with you. Everyone else's gone home; I was honestly about to call an ambulance."

"Ah, there'll be no need for that," Aziraphale said, quickly sobering up. "I'm so sorry about the trouble. I must've had too much to drink."

"'S alright. Are you sure you're okay?" He leaned in close to look at the bump again; it really was quite big. "Need some aspirin or something?"

Aziraphale blushed as the man leaned in and he began to remember exactly why it was he'd passed out. "I'm quite alright, really. I'm a doctor; I'll make sure to look at it once I get home, but I think I just need a cold compress and some rest. If I get worse I'll go in, promise." He got up and began to stumble, but Crowley caught him.

"Whoa there, take it easy now," Crowley said as he brought Aziraphale's arm over his shoulder. "Let me drive you home at least?"

"Oh, you really don't have to do that," Aziraphale floundered as he tried to walk in step with the taller man.

"I do; I'm the one who pulled you up on the stage in the first place. Plus my boss wanted me to take care of you. Said I was an idiot for letting someone fall down right in front of me. I tried to catch you, honestly, but like I said, lead balloon." Crowley chuckled, "Ze also said to make sure you wouldn't sue."

Aziraphale knew he was joking around, but he flustered anyway, "I wouldn't!"

Crowley chuckled some more, "Good. Now get in the car?"

When had they made it to the street Aziraphale wondered. He suddenly felt very tired so he shrugged, "Ah, alright."

They both got into the car, a black Bentley, and Crowley handed him his phone. Aziraphale looked at him with confusion.

"I need your address. Type it into the phone?"

"Oh, right," he said as he began typing. He handed the phone back and shivered as their hands touched.

"What's your name?" Crowley asked.

"Aziraphale."

"That's different," he said quietly. Then, a bit louder, he asked, "What year is it?"

"I don't have a concussion!" Aziraphale answered.

"Okay, okay, just checking." Then he started the Bentley and began to drive.

Crowley drove fast. Much too fast, Aziraphale decided. He took a sharp left turn and Aziraphale had to hold in a terrified noise that was coming from the back of his throat. Another left turn, that felt even sharper, had him gripping Crowley's arm.

"Don't you think you're going a bit fast? The speed limit's 48, not 90!"

"Relaaax, I've done this plenty of times." He took another sharp turn and Aziraphale screamed. Crowley laughed. The rest of the ride home would have almost been pleasant if he hadn't been so terrified, Aziraphale thought. Queen played softly in the background and he tried to pay attention to that instead of the manic driving.

"Here we go," Crowley said after a while. "This is it, right?"

"Yes, this is it," Aziraphale replied. "I feel I must compensate you somehow; you really didn't have to look after me like this."

"Nah, you already 'compensated' me earlier," Crowley chuckled.

"Oh?" Aziraphale tried to remember.

"Yeah, you shoved a £50 down my pants."

"Oh! Oh, right, sorry."

"Don't apologize; made my night." Crowley answered. "Do you need any help inside?"

"No, no, I'm fine, thank you," Aziraphale said hurriedly, got out of the car, and fell promptly onto his face. "I'm fine," he whimpered. Crowley got out of the car and helped the other man up.

"Here, just let me help. I don't bite...usually," he winked.

Aziraphale blushed, "thank you, really."

"Stop thanking me; it's fine."

They made their way up to Aziraphale's Soho flat. He juggled with the keys for a minute, but soon they got inside. Aziraphale led them to his bedroom and tried not to blush as Crowley set him down and took off his shoes. The man went into his bathroom and came out with a bottle of mild pain reliever and a glass of water. He set them on the nightstand and began to leave, but stopped short of the doorway.

"Are you _sure_ you're going to be alright?"

Aziraphale hesitated for a second, but then answered "Yes. I'll be fine. Just need to sleep it off. Thank you again; you're very kind."

"Am not," Crowley said, sticking out his tongue. "Good night, angel."

Aziraphale wasn't quite sure he'd heard him correctly, but he was too tired to think about it, so he simply called good night after him and then face planted right into his pillows and passed out for the second time that night.

* * *

A/N:

Crowley's dick game's so strong Zira passed out lmao. But seriously, Aziraphale's gonna be avoiding alcohol for at least a week now, poor boy.

Also, the other person talking to Crowley is Beelzebub, his boss. I wanted to give zir a human name, but couldn't think of one so Crowley just calls zir "B".

Questions, comments? Leave them below and I'll get back to you asap. I hope you all like this chapter even though I wrote it at 2am!


	3. Gift

Aziraphale woke up with a horrible headache. The sun shining through his window felt like a thousand tiny daggers piercing through his brain and his mouth felt as if he had eaten a wad of cotton. For all he could remember, it was possible that he had. He rolled away from the window and tried to piece together his memories from last night. He had gone to the club; he had seen Serpent, or Crawley, was it? That didn't seem quite right, but regardless he had seen the man. He had gotten a drink- many drinks by the feel of things. He hadn't meant to get drunk, but here he was.

Aziraphale groaned as the memories came flooding back to him. He had made a bloody fool out of himself. Time to pack up to Peru, give up alcohol, and never speak to anyone again. It was the only way he could hide his shame. And if he got lonely he could just start adopting cats, because there was no way the other man would want to see him again after all that. Aziraphale sighed and got up to go to the shower; he was being dramatic, he knew it, but my goodness was this embarrassing. He blushed as he got undressed, wondering how on earth he could possibly face the other man now. As he unbuttoned his shirt he noticed a long black chain tucked underneath it. This was Crawley's, no, Crowley's, right? It had to be. He vaguely remembered the man slipping it over him on the stage and blushed even harder. If he was going to see the other man, to return the chain and apologize for last night, then he really had to get his blushing and stuttering under control. Without the use of alcohol. He very gently took off the necklace and placed it on his sink before getting into the shower.

After a light breakfast, some of the painkillers from his nightstand, and a new, unrumpled set of clothing Aziraphale was feeling much better. He still had a headache, but that was par for the course, really, considering how much alcohol he drank the night before and the considerable fall he had had. Besides the light throbbing in his head it really was a lovely Saturday; the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. He looked at his watch; it was almost 2 o'clock, so the club wouldn't be open yet, but maybe they would be setting up by the time he got there.

Aziraphale decided to walk down instead of taking a taxi. The air was bracing and, if he went the long way, he figured he would have time to prepare himself mentally for whatever was about to happen next. The streets had been fairly busy, being a Saturday, but when he turned down the crossroads of Gaiman and Pratchett the traffic died considerably. It was an unusual street with peculiar shops lining the east side- the west being occupied by a park. He could hear children running and laughing to his right as he read the storefronts to his left. He passed a small church with nuns bustling to and fro, a fertility clinic, and a new restaurant called Chow™. Tucked between a neon sign shaped like a hand with the words '_Madame Tracy's Palm Reading' _below it and a shop claiming to have the best pies in all of Soho was a weathered shopfront called '_Anathema's Apothecary and Gifts'_. Aziraphale wondered if he should get the other man something, maybe a case of tea. It was a shame they most likely didn't make cards saying "Sorry I got utterly flustered seeing you almost naked, passed out, and made you drag my drunk arse home". Aziraphale breathed out a sigh as he entered the store- what did you give someone in a situation like this?

A bell on the door rang out as he stepped inside. It appeared to be a cozy store filled with plants and books, pharmaceuticals, candles, candies, and any number of trinkets and baubles. A woman in a long, dark blue lace dress stood behind the counter and smiled at him as he walked in.

"Anything I can help you find?" The young woman asked.

Aziraphale shook his head and smiled politely, "Just looking, thank you."

"Well," she began, "I would suggest searching near the gemstones. I think we'll have exactly what you're looking for."

The woman had said it with such certainty that Aziraphale couldn't help but to go in that direction. The crystals were all nestled between a bookshelf of candles and incense and a display of succulents, herbs, and occult books. The table the gems were on was home to geodes, large quartz wands, and crystal balls; it also had two small shelves on top of it all filled with gems and crystals of varying sizes and shapes. On the first shelf there was malachite in the shape of a small elephant and rose quartz shaped like hearts; there were varying gems shaped like Buddah, a couple cats, a black onyx shaped like a snake, a white onyx shaped like a dove, and a few crystal bonsai trees here and there. The second shelf was smaller and only had one large crystal tree on it, but from each of the branches multiple pendants were displayed. Even the floor below the table was covered with small wooden baskets of loose gems- each with small slips showing their meanings. Aziraphale bent down, picked up one of the slips, and read. "_Angelite: helps facilitate communication with angels and spirit guides, converts fear, anger, and anxiety into tranquility and faith, and encourages forgiveness." _It was a very pretty stone, but not quite what he was looking for. It'd be fairly strange to just give Crowley a rock, wouldn't it? He wondered why the woman had thought to send him here. He straightened up and was about to leave when something caught his eye. Hanging from the crystal tree was a small pendant, quite different from the colorful geode slice necklaces around it. It was a cloudy gray pointed crystal connected to a silver chain by a black metallic snake that wrapped around the gem. He took it off the branch almost reverently. "_Yes_," he thought, "_this would be perfect_."

The woman smiled at him again as he made his way to the front. She rang up his purchase and put it in a small paper bag, adding a small glass vial as well; "on the house," she had said. When Aziraphale had asked what it was in the vial she replied that it was simply some lavender essential oil. Perfect for headaches- and restlessness. She had winked.

"H-how did you know I have a headache?" Aziraphale asked.

"My family has run apothecaries for as long as I can remember; it's our job to heal. Plus, I've just got a knack for knowing these things."

"And sending me towards the crystals?"

"Like I said, I've got a talent for knowing what my customers need. Anathema Device," she proclaimed as she held out her hand.

Aziraphale took it warmly. "Aziraphale."

"Well, Aziraphale, I think you've made the right choice with the smoky quartz pendant. Your partner's going to love it."

"Part-no, he's not, that is to say, it's," Aziraphale stuttered. "It's not a romantic gift."

"Oh, I guess I can't get it _all_ right. I'm sure whoever's receiving this will love it though," Anathema smiled kindly, but the look in her eyes, behind her rounded glasses, was knowing.

Aziraphale thanked her profusely, but left the store with more questions than answers.

* * *

When Aziraphale took the pendant off the original chain and connected it to Crowley's black one instead he was pleased to see that it was a perfect fit. He put the chain he bought into his pocket and placed Crowley's into the paper bag and then walked the rest of the way towards the club. The Garden of Eden was just opening as he walked up. He tried to be inconspicuous as he entered, but seeing as it was so early, he was the only one there. There were a few dancers walking around, but no one was on the stage and he didn't see Crowley anywhere. A young blonde woman walked up to him and smiled a syrupy smile.

"Hi honey, I'm Temptation. The stage dancers don't start for another half hour, but you can buy a private dance now if you'd like. Or I can show you to the bar and our bartender can make you something nice."

"Oh. Um, that's quite alright. I was actually just looking for someone. Do you happen to know if Cr- uh, Serpent's around?"

"I think I saw him in the back. I'll go get him- you just relax at the bar and Red'll take care of you 'til he gets out, okay sweetheart?" She ran her long nails through his hair and gave him a wink before turning around and traipsing away.

Aziraphale sat down on an empty barstool and waited. He ordered a ginger beer from the bartender because it was alcohol-free and left a nice tip because the bartender looked ready for a fight and he didn't want to be on the other end of her fury. He drank in silence and tried, in vain, to avoid the bartender's large smile- it was one that didn't reach her eyes.

"Back for more, huh?"

Aziraphale turned towards the voice, "Crowley! Or, er, Serpent? I'm not really sure what to call you to be honest."

Crowley leaned against the counter next to him. "If you're throwing around money like last night then you can call me anything."

"I'm just here to deliver something, actually," Aziraphale pressed the small paper bag into Crowley's chest.

Crowley took the bag and slowly began to open it. "Deliver?"

"You never took your necklace back from last night."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that; I have tons of them," Crowley pointed to the identical necklace adorning his neck. Then he took the other one out of the bag. "...Mine didn't have this crystal on it."

"Ah, no," Aziraphale answered, "I found that. I thought it would match your whole, well, you, really."

Crowley stuttered. It seemed it was his turn to be embarrassed. Aziraphale assumed he was trying to say thank you, but it came out more like this. "Tha, y-you, uh…" He ran his hands through his hair and looked away. "That was, you didn't...do you want a lap dance?"

And just like that the embarrassment baton was passed back to Aziraphale. "What?"

"You know," he said, gesturing wildly with his hands, "you sit, I dance."

"I got that much," Aziraphale answered slowly. "What I meant was why?"

"Well, you came all this way. Be a bit of a waste if you just left, right?"

"I-I suppose, if you insist."

Crowley nodded. "Follow me."

He led them to a back room behind a velvet curtain. The room was low-lit and fairly small with a large red couch being the only furniture inside besides a large mirror that hung on the wall across from it. The music was much quieter here; Aziraphale barely noticed it over the sound of his breathing and his heart beating. Crowley instructed him to sit and he did so. They stared at each other for a moment before Aziraphale broke the silence.

"Is it always quite this awkward?"

Crowley ran his hands through his hair again as he paced. "No! Never! I just, oh, I don't know."

"Can you take your glasses off?" Aziraphale asked.

"No. The glasses always stay on."

"Why?" Aziraphale questioned, extremely curious. He had seen the man's eyes once and they were beautiful; he had no idea why he would hide them.

Crowley glared, or at least Aziraphale assumed he was glaring- it was hard to tell with the glasses after all. "They just do."

"Please?"

Crowley huffed, "fine." He ripped his glasses off his face and tossed them gently on the couch next to Aziraphale. "I've never done this without my glasses so if this all goes pear-shaped I'm blaming you."

Aziraphale smiled, "deal."

"Ready?"

"Absolutely."


	4. A Dance That Wasn't

Crowley turned away from Aziraphale, facing the large mirror. He smiled as he slowly slid off his black jacket, flexing his back as he did so. He slithered down into a crouch slowly along with the beat of the barely audible music. He picked up his jacket and slung it behind him towards Aziraphale. Then he turned around and promptly stopped.

"Are you...are you covering your eyes?" Crowley asked, a bit bewildered.

"N-no," Aziraphale answered, though his hands were still over his eyes.

"You were all over me yesterday."

"Yes, well, I had quite a bit of alcohol in my system. I've never really done anything like this before," Aziraphale confessed.

Crowley chuckled and took Aziraphale's hands in his, pulling them away from his face. "No need to be embarrassed, angel." He brought Aziraphale's hand up to his mouth and kissed his knuckles before bringing out his tongue. He licked along his knuckles and then in between his fingers before straddling the shorter man. Crowley leaned in until his lips were on Aziraphale's ear. "Just keep your eyes on me," he whispered and gave his ear a quick nip. He leaned back to wink at the blonde. Their hands still entwined, Aziraphale gave a hard squeeze as Crowley began to move his hips sensually to the music outside. Crowley brought Aziraphale's hands back and laid them both along the back of the couch. He ran his hands up and down Aziraphale's chest, slowly rubbing circles around where his nipples were under his shirt and then moving up to untie the man's bow tie. His hands continued upward until they reached their destination: Aziraphale's hair. They gripped his hair tightly and pulled his head back to give Crowley's mouth better access to his ear once again. Crowley gently began to bite at his earlobe, nibbling the sensitive flesh until he elicited a rather bawdy moan from the other man. He smirked through the long kiss, with hints of tongue, that he placed on Aziraphale's ear.

"You like that?" Crowley asked in earnest as he began to tonguefuck Aziraphale's ear.

"Yess," he answered, drawn out and said like a sigh.

Between the bites and kisses to his rapidly reddening ear and the soft grinding of Crowley's hips, Aziraphale was starting to get hard and he knew that Crowley knew it, could feel it against him as much as he could feel Crowley's smirk. Aziraphale bucked his hips up towards the dancer and Crowley's smirk widened. He was thoroughly enjoying teasing him, the smug bastard. Crowley leaned back to admire the work he had done on Aziraphale's ear and took in the disheveled state the blonde was in. Hair mussed, bow tie undone, and face flushed- he looked gorgeous.

"Am I allowed- can I, can I touch you?" Aziraphale asked between breaths.

Crowley knew clients weren't supposed to touch them, they were to keep their hands to their sides, but the workers also weren't supposed to kiss the customers and Crowley definitely wanted to do that so he whispered out a _yes _and let Aziraphale place a hand on either side of his face. "_Some rules were meant to be broken_," Crowley thought, "_especially for cute men in bow ties who covered their eyes at the thought of a striptease, but shoved __50 down his shorts with a little alcohol. Men who thought to bring back a cheap necklace with a new charm and who looked at him like he was someone spectacular." _

Crowley leaned in and kissed him. It was chaste at first, almost too innocent really, and then Aziraphale opened his mouth and Crowley slipped in his tongue and it was warm and wet and wonderful and he never wanted it to end. When they separated to breathe Crowley noticed that Aziraphale's light blue eyes were hooded and dark with a lust he'd never seen in the man. He wondered if his eyes looked anything like that and remembered for the first time that his glasses were off and that the other man could clearly see into his eyes as well. It sent a shiver of something down his spine, but he couldn't place a finger on what. Arousal, maybe. Affection, more likely. He leaned back and took off his shirt, tossing it to the side of the couch along with his other belongings, forgetting to even make a show of it as Aziraphale latched his mouth onto his exposed neck. It was Crowley's turn to moan as Aziraphale kissed and sucked and licked and nipped at every centimeter of skin he could reach from their positions. Crowley was half-hard now and he pressed his clothed erection over Aziraphale's to show him.

"Fuuuck," Aziraphale moaned.

"I'm trying to," Crowley replied.

Aziraphale stuttered back, "not here." and Crowley mumbled that he got off at 2.

"I'm gonna get off right now if you don't stop grinding," Aziraphale panted.

Crowley stopped immediately and then smiled wickedly. "Good," he responded and began kissing him all over again. Crowley's slightly chapped lips kissed Aziraphale's lips once, twice, three times before Aziraphale relented, gripping Crowley's shoulders and opening his mouth for entrance.

"Mm, mn," Aziraphale made pleased sounds in the back of his throat and Crowley took that as an invitation to absolutely ravish the other man. Aziraphale made sure to give as good as he got and as their tongues and breaths mingled together they felt sparks fly along their spines. Crowley got on his knees and spread Aziraphale's legs. Before Aziraphale could get a word in to ask him what he was doing Crowley had cupped his erection through his trousers, one hand feeling the length and the other gently squeezing his balls. Aziraphale gasped as Crowley then undid his fly and buttons exposing his underwear. There was a small mark from where precum had leaked out and Crowley lapped at it.

Aziraphale gently gripped his hair. "Please Crowley, please," he pleaded, his voice going ragged. He was clearly coming undone.

Crowley pulled down his briefs and Aziraphale's cock sprang to full attention. It was red and weeping and Crowley kissed it's tip and tongued down the base. His right hand grabbed onto the now exposed erection while his left hand teased Aziraphale's balls. The other man was unravelling; he sounded as if he were about to sob, but his face was painted in pure ecstasy. Crowley stroked his entire length a few times before bringing his mouth down upon him. After a few bobs of his head he managed to fit Aziraphale's entire length down his throat. He quickened his pace, feeling how close the other man was. A few seconds later Aziraphale was cumming in his mouth and on his face with Crowley's name on his lips. Crowley swallowed what he could and used his hand to wipe away the rest. He got up and swore he'd never seen anything or anyone more beautiful than Aziraphale post-orgasm. It felt as if something was tugging at his heart.

Crowley quickly got up and turned away, embarrassed at the sentimental look that must be all over his face. Aziraphale put a hand on his leg, stopping him from going too far.

"Where are you going?"

"I, well, I figured my job was done and so I-"

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "That had nothing to do with work and you know it." Or at least he hoped it wasn't about work for the other man; it definitely felt like more than that to him. "Come here," he called, standing up and tucking himself in before grabbing Crowley's hand and leading him to sit at the end of the couch. Standing, Aziraphale towered over the usually taller man. He leaned into him, kissing him with a slow passion and guiding him to lay down as he did so. They were lying chest to chest; they could feel each other's hearts beating through their skin and hear each other's ragged breaths. "You're hard as a rock Crowley."

"Really? I had no idea."  
"Cheeky," Aziraphale answered, giving the man a light flick to the nose. Crowley really was quite sarcastic, wasn't he? Then. "Do you really want to go?"

Crowley could feel the emotion in that question. Aziraphale was sated from the sex, but there was a longing. The question held a hurt and insecurity. Crowley couldn't help but answer honestly, "No."

Aziraphale smiled, "good." He began to suck on Crowley's clavicle, then kissed down his chest paying special attention to his nipples. He pinched one between his fingers and gently nibbled on the other until they were fully erect. He lapped at them both before moving down his stomach.

"'Ziraphale," Crowley began, his hips already thrusting up to get some much needed friction, "need.."

"Shh, I know dear." Aziraphale made quick work of his pants, though he secretly wondered how he got them on by himself- they were almost painted on. He went to move the underwear beneath his hips as well, but paused when he noticed what they were. A black, lace thong- definitely women's lingerie. If he hadn't just came he probably would've come from the sight of Crowley's cock, barely contained in the skimpy panties. He wondered if he always wore those or if it was something he put on for the stage. Crowley called out his name again and he snapped back to reality. He tugged the thong down and wrapped the cock in his palm. Crowley was trembling at this point and couldn't help thrusting into the hand wrapped tightly around him. Precum was dripping from him and he knew he wouldn't last long.

"Azzzziraphale, gonna, gonna c-ah!" Crowley exclaimed as Aziraphale put him into his mouth. He sucked harshly on the tip and used his hands to cover the rest until Crowley was completely spent. Aziraphale swallowed every last drop as if it were a vintage wine. Then they both took a moment to catch their breath and think of what to do next.

"So," Crowley began, "what are you doing at two am?"

"I, well, nothing really, but if you want to go again then I'll need more time and if you think I'm-"

"No! I mean, well, we could order Chinese food and watch bad TV and talk."

Aziraphale smiled. "I'd like that. Quite a lot actually. This all happened so fast and, don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it immensely, but I feel as if we've skipped some steps. I don't usually sleep with someone I've just met and-"

"I'd still like you even if you did," Crowley interrupted.

"Well, likewise, but my point is...wait...you like me?"

"I mean I did just ask you out so, what's the word those American kids use? Duh?"

"Oh, right, of course. I, well, I like you too. What I was trying to say before is that I don't usually do this kind of stuff right off the bat, but with you I just felt drawn in like…"

"Like there's an imaginary string pulling us together?"

"Yes! Exactly! Do you feel it too?"

"Yeah, I've never felt anything like it before.."

"Me either. What do you think it means?"

"I think…" Crowley began, biting his lip, "I think that it's too soon to tell, but I'd really like to find out."

"Is there any way I could fake passing out again to get us to leave early?"

Crowley laughed, "Angel, it's barely even 5pm."

Aziraphale got up from the couch. "I can't believe we just got off on each other in the middle of the afternoon! Does this make me a slut?"

Crowley nodded sagely, "Absolutely."

Aziraphale couldn't stop the peal of laughter that came out of him. "Cheek! But wonderful, I will embrace this new title with dignity and pride."

"You know, you're not just _a _slut, you're a Mega Slut."

"Oh, really now?"

"Yep, because you hooked up with me and I'm a Superstar Slut."

"And how'd you get that title?"

"By sending a spam text message to a ton of people."

"Ah. Lovely."

"Disappointed?"

"No, not at all." Aziraphale leaned over to where Crowley was still seated on the couch and placed a long, chaste kiss on his cheek. "See you at two?"

"Actually, I'm starting to come down with some stomach cramps."

"Oh," Aziraphale sighed, trying not to look disappointed. "So I suppose tonight won't work out then?"

"Well," said Crowley, "I don't know about that, but I suppose I shouldn't work in this condition." He made a comical wink and got up.

"Oh. _Oh_, jolly good. I mean, that's terrible, but really you should have someone to look after you."

Crowley smiled. "I suppose I should."


End file.
